


not shy of a spark

by zenelly



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Tongue Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/pseuds/zenelly
Summary: When Natsume shows up at the office with a new accessory, Tsumugi gets derailed.Luckily, Natsume planned it that way.
Relationships: Aoba Tsumugi/Sakasaki Natsume
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	not shy of a spark

**Author's Note:**

> the people responsible for this know exactly what they did
> 
> title from "505" by arctic monkeys

In retrospect, Tsumugi should have known something was going on when Natsume was oddly quiet for a few weeks. But Natsume disappearing for hours at a time, keeping quiet aside from the occasional scathing remark, scheming with Sora in a murmur too low for Tsumugi to hear, all of that was normal. It was normal to come into his office at New Dimension to find Natsume lounging on his couch. It was normal for Natsume to ignore any of Tsumugi’s attempts at conversation.

It wasn’t normal for Tsumugi to catch a glimpse of silver in Natsume’s mouth as Natsume went over their new album concept.

Tsumugi feels dizzy. He fumbles, clutching the side of the desk for balance, for something _real_ because he cannot have seen what he just saw.

Another bright flash of silver. Silver and the pink inside of Natsume’s mouth, and yes, that confirms it. Tsumugi breathes in unsteadily. “Natsume-kun,” he says, voice as even as he can make it, which means it warbles embarrassingly around the edges. “What is that?”

To his credit, Natsume doesn’t play coy. He drops his gaze to the floor, the better for his eyelashes to splay over his cheeks, casting shadows that Tsumugi’s heart skips beats over, but in a strange show of faux-obedience, Natsume stops mid-sentence to open his mouth, to present-

Nestled behind Natsume’s teeth, right in the center of his pink tongue, rests a silver barbell.

Tsumugi’s mouth goes abruptly dry.

Pointedly, Natsume sticks out his tongue a little, and when he brings his gaze back up, his eyes are sharp, cutting, dismissive. Tsumugi shifts where he stands. Clutches the edge of the desk hard enough for it to cut into his palms. Doesn’t think about why his breath comes just a tad quicker, a slow-rolling heat prickling beneath his collar.

“You have Eyes,” Natsume says. “Clearly it’s a tongue Piercing. I’ve had it for nearly two months Now, and you mean to tell me that in all this Time, you haven’t noticed at All?”

Almost desperately, Tsumugi tries to think back over the last several weeks, but he can’t. He can’t seem to pull his mind away from the piercing he now knows is in Natsume’s tongue, spit-slick and blood warm, catching Tsumugi’s attention again and again. Natsume has a tongue piercing. Natsume’s tongue is pierced. No matter how he tries mentally to rephrase it, the sentence doesn’t feel real. He wonders-

(No, he doesn’t wonder. Tsumugi wonders nothing at all.)

There’s a quiet _click_. Jolting, Tsumugi looks for the source of the sudden noise and then. At Natsume, who, amused, makes the sound again. The clack of metal against teeth. “Pay Attention, Senpai. I asked you a Question.”

“I don’t think the fans would approve of that,” says Tsumugi. It isn’t an answer. Was that distant? He feels distant, blood and heat throbbing through his body as Natsume sticks his tongue out again.

“The fans don’t have to Know. I’ll wear a clear spacer when I’m on Stage.”

“You think they won’t notice that?”

“I think the uncertainty will titillate Them. The real question Is, Senpai, what do _you_ Think?”

“What do I…?”

Tsumugi trails off as slender fingers grasp his tie, yanking him forward. Nose to nose with Natsume, Tsumugi barely dares to breathe. Golden eyes drop down, lazy, evaluating. Oh no. Tsumugi squirms in place. No, no, no, he can’t be getting hard right now. Natsume is too close and his hand drops from Tsumugi’s tie, traces down Tsumugi’s chest and-

The heel of Natsume’s hand presses against Tsumugi’s half-hard cock, and Tsumugi whimpers, closes his eyes, a flush of heat coursing through him. Natsume has to be able to feel it. There’s no way he doesn’t, and especially not when he leans forward, traces the shell of Tsumugi’s ear with his tongue, soft and wet and _slick_ right where the ball of the piercing is, not when Tsumugi’s dick twitches at the contrasting textures.

Natsume’s gaze goes languid and molten, his voice low. “That’s Dirty, Senpai. You like It, don’t You? What are you thinking About? You thinking about my mouth on You? Do you think you’ve earned It?”

“Natsume-kun,” Tsumugi gasps. Jolts when Natsume squeezes, can’t help the way his hips jump forward. He can’t catch his breath. The only thing he can think is about grinding his cock into the heel of Natsume’s hand, the not-enough pressure and too-much friction burning him up. “Please,” he says when it becomes clear that Natsume won’t say anything else, unsure of what exactly he’s asking for. “Please, can you-“

“I won’t do anything you don’t ask me For.” Another squeeze, harder this time, and Tsumugi’s next exhale breaks with a moan. “What do you Want?”

For a moment, Tsumugi pulls back to search Natsume’s eyes. His clothes feel too restricting, arousal boiling within him, bright, fever bright wherever Natsume’s body leans against his own, pinning him to the desk. He shoots a glance at the door. Closed, not locked. Anyone could come in. Anyone could see. But Tsumugi wants, the hook of it sharp in his belly, dragging and deep, and he feels outside of himself with want as he swallows. Says, “I want to feel it. Your piercing. Your mouth. Please, Natsume-kun, I want it.”

Natsume lets out a pleased noise and nips at Tsumugi’s neck, the scrape of teeth only enhanced by the drag of metal over it afterwards. And then, Natsume is stepping away. Tsumugi sags against the desk like a puppet with its strings cut, watching as Natsume locks the door and flips the lights, letting the harsh fluorescents fade in favor of something more intimate.

“You should be Grateful.” Natsume sinks to his knees gracefully before Tsumugi. He slides his slim, delicate hands up Tsumugi’s trembling thighs and back down, the drag of his nails blunted by Tsumugi’s slacks. Up, so Tsumugi can arch against them, hoping and wanting, dick straining against his zipper, so teasingly close. Down, so he can whine and whimper and clutch at the edge of the desk.

Up.

Natsume’s hands still at the top of Tsumugi’s zipper. Tsumugi feels like he’s going insane. “What do you say when someone’s doing you a Favor, Tsumugi-niisan?”

Right.

“Thank you,” he gasps, quivering. “Thank you, Natsume-kun.”

Humming approvingly, Natsume finally frees Tsumugi’s cock, pushing Tsumugi’s underwear and pants down below his hips. He wraps a hand around it – Tsumugi notices how his thumb just barely touches his middle finger and swears to stop noticing – and swipes his thumb over the slit to gather precum.

The only noise is Tsumugi’s labored breathing. He can’t think of anything to say that isn’t inane, that doesn’t break the line of sunset falling through the windows and across Natsume’s shoulders. Or rather, he can think of too many things to say and holds them all back for fear of babbling and ruining this moment for good.

He wants.

“Hold Still.”

_I would do anything you ever tell me to do,_ Tsumugi thinks, holding the truth of it behind his teeth.

Natsume tucks his hair behind his ear, and Tsumugi swears, clutching the desk harder when his cock visibly jumps in Natsume’s hand. The scathingly unimpressed look Natsume gives him only makes it worse. Makes Tsumugi’s voice catch in the back of his throat with the realization of how pathetic he must look, hard and practically dripping already just because Natsume is kneeling in front of him, his pretty thighs spread wide, his mouth open and-

The piercing touches him first. Hard and foreign and smooth. And then it’s all wet and warm as Natsume swallows him down.

Nothing could have prepared Tsumugi for how good it feels to have Natsume’s mouth on him. Natsume takes his time, as he does with all things, flicking his tongue against the head as his hand slowly works the rest of Tsumugi’s length. Tsumugi can’t stop his hitched little gasps every time the ball of Natsume’s piercing presses against him, hyperaware. His dick disappears into Natsume’s mouth in increments, Natsume bobbing slowly as he works his way further and further down.

He pulls back up in waves to tongue at Tsumugi’s head again, to tease with the faint metallic sound of his piercing hitting teeth as Natsume sticks his tongue out and goes back down and-

Tsumugi reaches out, trembling fingers brushing the corner of Natsume’s mouth stretched around him, feeling the shape of his cock through Natsume’s cheek, and Tsumugi groans low and deep when Natsume only looks up at him, one eyebrow arched.

Natsume pulls off with a wet sound and a swipe of his tongue that has Tsumugi’s hips bucking. He wipes his chin with the back of Tsumugi’s hand before guiding it into his hair. “If you pull too Hard,” he warns, voice raspy, “I’ll walk right out of here and leave you like This.”

Tsumugi twitches, his dick bobbing, and Natsume zeros in on the movement with interest.

Smirking, Natsume leans forward to nuzzle the soft crease of Tsumugi’s thigh and hip, murmurs, “We’ll talk about that Later,” and opens his pretty mouth again.

Fuck.

“Thank you,” Tsumugi whimpers, and Natsume moans around him. The air is humid. Filled with the soft, wet sounds of Natsume going down on him, and Tsumugi lets go of the desk with his other hand to pull his shirt up, to watch, wide-eyed, as Natsume goes lower and lower, until Tsumugi can feel the breach of his throat. His hand clenches as Natsume swallows around him, pulls off with a choked noise.

Again.

And again, Natsume goes down. Opens his throat for Tsumugi’s cock, only to come back up with a drag of smooth metal and soft tongue, and Tsumugi loses himself, clutching at his shirt and trying not to pull Natsume’s hair too hard or buck into his mouth. His thighs twitch, his stomach convulsing with the effort to hold himself still. Natsume’s golden eyes slit open, teary and triumphant as Tsumugi’s breath gets more ragged.

“Natsume-kun,” he groans. “Natsume-kun, I can’t- I’m going to-“

He pulls back. Sits back on his heels with his hand firmly wrapped around Tsumugi’s dick. “Can’t hold it in Anymore?” Natsume asks. His tongue flickers across his mouth, leaving his lips red and wet before he opens his mouth. “Come on Then, if you Must.”

And Tsumugi whimpers at the sight of Natsume’s waiting mouth, tongue pressed right beneath the swell of his head, silver barbell right there to see as Natsume’s hand speeds up and-

Tsumugi’s orgasm crashes over him like lightning, tightening him up and rocketing through, all white hot and inevitable. He’s finally able to breathe, long deep groans as he comes in Natsume’s mouth.

He blinks, forcing his eyes to focus through the slightly hazy lenses of his glasses, as Natsume closes his mouth, rocks upright. When Natsume urges his face down, Tsumugi goes easily, unquestioningly, opening for a kiss without thought. Natsume kisses him, pushing the mess of saliva and Tsumugi’s cum into Tsumugi’s mouth.

Natsume pulls away. Holds Tsumugi’s jaw shut with a hand on his chin.

“Swallow for Me.”

Tsumugi knows he must look a fool, staring at Natsume the way he is, but he can’t bring himself to do anything different as he does what Natsume says.

“Now, Tsumugi-niisan,” Natsume purrs, “you aren’t going to just leave me Hanging, are You?”

Tsumugi falls to his knees with an immediacy that startles them both, clutching at Natsume’s hips with his hands as he opens his mouth. He knows he’s messier than Natsume was, can’t stop the way his mouth waters around Natsume’s cock. Tsumugi keeps having to pull off for air, unable to draw enough breath through his nose, but he won’t stop until Natsume comes. He won’t back off. He’ll let Natsume writhe and swear and clutch too hard at his hair, tugging and pulling as his hips thrust, as he uses Tsumugi’s mouth for his own pleasure.

His mind is blissfully blank. Tsumugi is a tool for Natsume’s pleasure, his hands kneading Natsume’s ass, encouraging him to thrust deeper, harder. Whatever it is Natsume wants, Tsumugi can take, he thinks, pleased.

When Natsume curls over him with a shout, Tsumugi only urges him closer, swallowing and swallowing and swallowing without hesitation.

“So you like it Then,” Natsume says when they’ve both caught their breath. He reaches up to take Tsumugi’s glasses, and Tsumugi lets him, if only so he can bury his face better against Natsume’s shoulder. He clutches Natsumes’s hips, pulling him further onto his lap.

“I think it looks very nice, Natsume-kun,” says Tsumugi, and when Natsume taps his cheek, he sits back to let Natsume place his freshly cleaned glasses back on. Blinks to see the smile on Natsume’s face come into full focus.

And primly, Natsume says, “I like it Too,” and means “ _I like you.”_

And Tsumugi only smiles and replies, “Next time, just tell me at home.”

_“I love you too._ ”


End file.
